


The Absence of Color

by Green



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Temporary Character Death, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Stiles Stilinski Doesn't Know About Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-02-08 10:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12862257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/pseuds/Green
Summary: Soulmarks change color with the health of the soulmate. Stiles's 'Peter' was blue, then gray, then black.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love this fic. I'm so happy to share it with everyone. :)

Stiles and his parents move across the country to Boston when Claudia gets sick. Her parents are there, and there are experimental treatments in the city. His dad is willing to take her anywhere, try anything, if it means saving his soulmate.

A year later, when she's gone and his dad's soulmark has gone black, Stiles's soulmark turns gray. He knows what it means immediately, because his dad's soulmark was gray in the last weeks of Claudia's illness.

His soulmate is sick. Really sick. Deathly ill.

Ten year old Stiles rubs his fingers over _Peter_ every day, several times a day, willing the gray to turn blue again. He doesn't want to lose his soulmate. He sees what his dad is going through without Claudia, and he doesn't want that to happen to him. He misses his mom — he's grieving heavily — but it's nothing compared to what his dad is going through.

They say it's different when you don't meet your soulmate first. That without the bond, it doesn't hurt as badly. That you can live a full life.

Stiles just traces his fingertips over the letters of his soulmate's name and hopes he doesn't have to find out.

* * *

After Claudia dies, his father covers his own soulmark with a thick leather band. Most people with black soulmarks do the same, but some people just like the bands for privacy.

After a week of pity looks when Stiles's gray soulmark is seen, he wraps his own band around his wrist.

He still checks the soulmark every night. Hopes and prays for Peter to make a recovery. Sometimes… sometimes Stiles thinks he can almost see a bit of blue shimmer coming through the gray.

* * *

When Stiles is sixteen, Peter's name turns blue again. Stiles is so relieved he cries.

He takes his leather cuff off so he can look at his soulmark all the time. He checks constantly to make sure the name is still blue.

His friends celebrate by buying him a pizza. They eat most of it but Stiles doesn't really care — his soulmate is _well_ again and nothing else matters.

* * *

He's getting ready for bed when it happens. He feels a burning, horrible feeling on his wrist. He looks at it and watches as the blue fades to gray for just a moment before going black.

He stares at his wrist in horror. He rubs his thumb over the black 'Peter', but it doesn't change, doesn't go back to blue or even gray. He thinks, wildly, of CPR and waits, willing someone to bring his soulmate back to life.

It doesn't happen. Fifteen minutes later his dad finds him slumped on the floor, hyperventilating and squeezing his wrist.

* * *

The therapist is no big deal. Stiles doesn't say much, and she doesn't push. But she does recommend group therapy, which is…

They are a group of people who've lost their soulmates, who all have black marks, sitting in a room all together, trying desperately not to feel alone.

The worst ones are the people who met their soulmates. Stiles knows they have it bad, that they're all near suicidal. He thinks of his dad, thanks every deity he can come up with that he didn't give up and leave Stiles alone in the world.

But Stiles envies them. He never had a chance to meet his soulmate, and now he never can. He never got to look into his eyes, his Peter. Never got to hold his hand. 

Some soulmate bonds are platonic. Stiles thinks… he thinks he wouldn't have minded that. A soulmate is a soulmate, right? Someone who completes you, they say.

"Is that how you see soulmates? As completion?" his therapist asks.

Stiles nods. He knows part of him is missing, just like part of his dad is missing since his mom died.

"Listen, Stiles. You can be a whole person. You are a whole person. You're not half a soul. You're not only a piece of a bigger puzzle without your soulmate."

Stiles looks up. He's wearing the leather cuff again, this time in mourning. He never takes it off to check, like he did when 'Peter' was gray.

His voice cracks when he asks, "How?"

His therapist nods slowly and starts to talk. About finding fulfilment in life, in loving yourself as you are, without having a soulmate. She even talks about finding love, eventually.

She says platonic soulmates marry other people, after all. Are they not happy?

Stiles shrugs. He's never met anyone married to someone other than their soulmate, at least not knowingly. The therapist smiles and says to pay more attention. There are plenty of people with happy, healthy lives. People who haven't met their soulmates, or people who fell in love with others.

Stiles is sixteen. He has a whole life ahead of him.

* * *

In group therapy, there's a lot of crying and a lot of anger. Stiles jumps between panic and depression. Sometimes he ignores what everyone is saying in order to daydream. He has a lot of 'what-if' fantasies. 

It hurts, but he forces himself to imagine Peter. Who he might have been. What his personality was like. Soulmates are perfect complements. Sometimes that means opposite personalities, but sometimes it means similar everything.

Was Peter quiet and steady to offset Stiles's loud mouth and constant motion? Or was he just the same, and therefore completely understanding? Did he have a dry sense of humor or was he just as sarcastic as Stiles?

Had Peter been an asshole, like Stiles? Stiles imagines getting into a fight with his soulmate, bickering and picking at each other but holding off on the weakest spots. Because they'd know how to hurt each other. Or would it get so heated they'd go for the jugular?

He hates that he'll never know. He'll never know the color of Peter's eyes, or the stretch of his smile. He'll never know the touch of his hand or the warmth of his skin. It's unfair. 

"I miss her laugh," someone says, cutting through Stiles's thoughts. 

Stiles scowls. At least they'd heard a laugh. Stiles has nothing left but a name, and it's all he's ever had. 

(He remembers how thrilled he was when his mark turned from gray to blue. How much hope he had. Now, all his hope is gone.)

* * *

His father is worried. Stiles's grades have dipped, and he doesn't hang out with his friends anymore.

"We're moving," his dad says.

"What?" Stiles asks.

His father gives him a tired smile. "I think we could both do with a fresh start. There's an opening for an interim sheriff back in Beacon Hills. I figure… why not?"

Some of Stiles's happiest memories are of Beacon Hills. He sighs. He knows those days can't be recaptured, but his dad seems enthused. "Yeah… why not." He manages a smile.

"I've already checked — there's a support group for the bondless. So you don't have to give that up."

Stiles feels his lips twist bitterly. "It's not helping."

"Give it time," his dad coaxes.

Stiles isn't sure _time_ is what he needs. He doesn't know what would make him feel better, or what would fill the hole left by Peter's death, but he doesn't think time is the answer.

* * *

It's the full moon. Stiles is glad to be out of the city with its light pollution, because seeing the stars and moon is something special.

He's sitting on the back steps of his new house, ignoring the boxes he needs to unpack. He's got the basics out already, at least. Moving is such a pain.

He feels weird tonight. His heart keeps doing something funny, beating faster and harder than usual. And under his cuff, his soulmark kind of… itches.

It's not that he thinks he's going to see something other than what he knows is there. It's not that he wants to remind himself that Peter's dead. But _something_ has him unsnapping the cuff and looking at his soulmark in the moonlight.

He gasps. Runs his fingertips over it. It's dark, only moonlight outside, so maybe he's imagining what he sees.

He jogs inside to get a better look. Into the kitchen, where he flips on all the lights. He can't stop running his fingers over the bright blue 'Peter'. 

Blue. Peter's _alive_.

His father says from the living room, "I've just been called in. Some kids' party got out of hand."

"Dad!" Stiles calls out. Panicked. Choked.

His father finds him on the kitchen floor, clutching his wrist, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Aw, kid. I know it's tough-"

"Look," Stiles chokes out. Shoves his wrist right under his dad's nose.

His father blinks. Frowns. "That's impossible."

"You see it too?" Stiles asks. His voice is small and strangled with tears, but he feels so full of hope suddenly. 

His dad sits beside him and pulls him into his arms. "Yeah, son. I see it."

"He's alive," Stiles whispers. He can't stop the tears that keep spilling from his eyes. "Peter's alive."

In that moment, Stiles doesn't even care if he meets his soulmate. Just knowing he's alive is enough to make him feel a little less empty. 

A little more whole.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't really a continuation, just a snippet of Peter's POV in this 'verse. originally posted on Tumblr but then I couldn't find the link again so... here you go.

At fifteen, Peter's already bitter and adjusted to the idea that he'll never have a soulmate. Less than 1% of the population never manifests a mark, but he's always been the odd one out, even in his own family. Why shouldn't he be one of the markless, the lonely?

But then his wrist starts itching. He glances at it, doesn't see anything different, and goes about his day. In the back of his mind, he knows it's one of the symptoms of a developing soulmark, but he doesn't want to hope. (It doesn't stop him from looking at it from time to time.)

He's at school when it happens. The itch intensifies, and then he feels like his wrist is being squeezed. He looks down and there it is, an unpronounceable name written in small blue letters.

He doesn't look away, but he knows he should note the time. It'll make it easier to find his soulmate later. It's 1:22pm.

He stares at his wrist for the rest of the class period. No one notices.

* * *

With a name like that, he's not expecting to find his soulmate even on this continent. He checks the paper the next day anyway, just to be on the safe side. Stranger things have happened. He's not actually expecting to find anything, but he does. 

_Noah and Claudia Stilinski welcome their son Mieczyslaw to the world, born at 1:22pm Thursday at Beacon Memorial Hospital, 6 pounds, 13 ounces, 19 ¼ inches long…_

So small. His soulmate is a newborn, of course he's small. But seeing it written out like that really brings it home. He's still stunned by how close his soulmate is, but he's also struck by the fact that he's so fragile. Human, most definitely. Tiny. Vulnerable.

Peter wants to rush to find the Stilinskis and make himself known. He wants to stand guard over the baby until he's no longer so helpless.

A boy. A baby boy and he's Peter's. The other half to his soul.

* * *

By the time he's eighteen, Peter can pronounce 'Mieczyslaw' perfectly. The boy himself cannot. He calls himself Mischief, which makes Peter grin.

Yes, Peter stalks him a little. At first it was to see what kind of parents the Stilinskis were, to see if they'd take good care of Peter's soulmate. Then, as the boy grew older, it was because Peter was absolutely fascinated by him. His curious brown eyes. His excited, chattering voice. Even from a distance, Peter is enthralled.

He can't wait to see what kind of man his Mischief grows up to be.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to write a sequel but I don't know if I will for sure. This stands alone for now. Let me know if you liked it, please. :)


End file.
